Tess of the Road

The old man cracked an enormous grin, and Countess Margarethe snapped, “That’s not Lord Morney! That’s my napou, captain of this ship.”

“Mestor Abaxia Claado,” said the countess’s Porphyrian uncle, his eyes crinkling merrily. “I am amused to be mistaken for his lordship, but we are of distinctly different complexions, as you’ll see when you meet him.”

His niece gave him a sidelong look. “If she meets him. I’ve yet to—”

“You’ve decided,” said Claado. “Admit it: she reminds you of an irrepressible eight-year-old who sneaked aboard my ship and wasn’t discovered until we were three days out of harbor. The Regent of Samsam’s fine furniture got delayed while we sailed that naughty child home. By the time we got back to Mardou, she knew her knots and lines, had got the hang of the sextant, and could dance a ripping hornpipe. The worst of it, though—”

“Is that she did it again when she was ten,” snapped the countess. She seemed deeply displeased by this story.

“You know your sister trickster when you see her, Marga,” said the old captain, sticking his thumbs in his belt.

“What I know,” said Countess Margarethe, folding her arms across her bosom and narrowing her eyes poisonously at Tess, “is that the last time I saw this miscreant, she insulted not only me but every man on this ship.”

    Her uncle rolled his eyes at this, but some muttering went up among the men.

“I am shocked, Tess Dombegh, that you have the gall to stand and face me. How are you not on your knees, begging my forgiveness?”

And Tess saw clearly then that this wasn’t so much about the insults as about the story her uncle had told. There had been a sweet, mischievous girl in that tale, but here was a grown countess who expected to be obeyed. She did not want anyone mistaking her for that girl, and yet (Tess knew from experience) that girl was always there, threatening to bring past humiliations crashing down around her ears again.

That girl didn’t have to be a liability.

“I am sorry for insulting you,” Tess began, measuring her words carefully. “I was drunk and deeply unhappy, and if I could erase that day from history, I would. But I hope you wouldn’t forgive me simply because I begged on my knees or fulfilled whatever conditions you set. I can earn your forgiveness without also earning your contempt. In fact, there’s no other way to do it.”

Countess Margarethe held her eyes a long time. “Keep those beasts under control,” said the countess at last, gesturing at the quigutl (and possibly Jacomo) with her chin. “Can’t have them popping out unexpectedly and scaring people.”

“Thank you,” said Tess, noticing the sway of the ship beneath her feet for the first time. It made her a little light-headed.

    She was here. She was going. It was real.

“Don’t make me regret this,” said Margarethe. She turned on her heel and barked orders to the crew.

Tess turned her face to the wind with an irrepressible grin as the world set itself in motion around her.





The four points of my compass, this time: Karen New, Arwen Brenneman, E. K. Johnston, and Max Gladstone.

My intrepid beta-reading, boot-wearing, butt-kicking work crew: Rebecca Hartman-Baker, Laura Hartman, Susin Nielsen, Phoebe North, Arushi Raina, Pavel Curtis, and Els Kushner. Extra thanks to Becca and Els for accompanying me on one extra side quest full of peril.

Rainbow Rowell, whose novel Fangirl got me out the door.

Justina Ireland, whose essay “Windows, Mirrors, and the Spaces in Between” kept me going when the road was rockiest.

Mishell Baker, Amal El-Mohtar, Rebecca Sherman, and my mother, who gave my weary head a place to rest.

Cam Larios, who gave Kikiu her bite enhancer.

The birds in my trees: the QuasiModals, Spock’s Beard, Dream Theater, YES, and always, always Iarla ó Lionáird.

    Mallory Loehr, Jenna Lettice, Michelle Nagler, and all my quigutl friends at Random House.

Dan Lazar, amazing agent, always ready to spring into superheroic action.

Jim Thomas, peripatetic editor, who had his hands full with this one and acquitted himself admirably.

And finally, Scott, Byron, and úna, who are always waiting at the end of my road.





    Tess Dombegh—the one most likely to get spanked Jeanne—her twin sister, the pretty one

Seraphina—her older half sister, the smart one, sometimes called Phina Claude—her father, a disgraced lawyer

Anne-Marie—her mother, long-suffering

Paul and Nedward—Tess’s younger brothers, aspiring bullies Kenneth—Anne-Marie’s brother; an honorary cousin and aspiring astronomer Mistress Edwina—a dowager baroness who resorts to teaching Faffy—short for “Fast Taffy,” a noble snaphound Count Julian, Aunt Jenny, Uncle Malagrigio, Great-Aunt Elise—just a few of the many possible Belgiosos, Anne-Marie’s side of the family Grandma Therese—Claude’s aged mother

Jean-Philippe, Baronet Dombegh—Claude’s older brother, a bully and a cad Chessey—a midwife, like one of the family





The Pfanzligs of Cragmarog Castle


Duke Lionel—the leonine patriarch

Duchess Elga—his pious wife

Lord Richard—the handsome one

Lord Heinrigh—the smarmy one

Lord Jacomo—the priggish one, at seminary





Royals, Nobles, and the Like


     Queen Glisselda—the young Queen of Goredd Prince Consort Lucian Kiggs—married to Glisselda; it’s complicated An infant princess—to be named as soon as all her parents can agree Regent of Samsam—the regent of Samsam

Count Pesavolta—the ruler of Ninys

Lady Farquist—an old darling, auntie to all the eligible bachelors Lady Eglantine, Lady Morena, Lord Thorsten—a chorus of courtiers Lord Chauncerat—a closeted Daanite, willing to play along Countess Margarethe of Mardou—a famous and fashionable explorer Lord Morney—he of the mysterious contraption, coming to a sequel near you Ardmagar Comonot—leader of dragons (the big winged ones anyway)





At St. Bert’s Collegium


Professor the dragon Ondir—crankily oversees the doctoral candidates William of Affle—a handsome cad, long gone Harald and Roger—Will’s best mates, aspiring cads Scholar Spira—a pedantic dragon graduate student Rynald, Baronet Averbath—a beautiful astronomer





In Legend and in Faith


Dozerius the Pirate—a swashbuckling Porphyrian storybook hero Julissima Rossa—his ladylove, deceased

St. Vitt—always ready to let you know how badly you’ve sinned Pau-Henoa—trickster rabbit of pagan provenance Anathuthia—the first of seven World Serpents





On the Road


     Pathka—a quigutl, Tess’s oldest friend

Kikiu—Pathka’s challenging offspring

Karpeth—Kikiu’s other parent, unsettlingly Florian—a grist lout

Blodwen and Gwenda—a pair of shepherdesses, lively and shrewd Mumpinello—their mysterious friend, definitely not made up Reg and Rowan—a pair of villains, plain and simple Griss—their aged victim, probably not a nobleman Boss Gen—imperatrix of the road crew

Felix, Aster, and Mico—the aforementioned crew, uniformly useless Big Arnando—the foreman

Nicolas—a geologist

Darling Dulsia—a traveling minister of mercy





Those Who Pray


Mother Philomela—a traveling minister of mercy Sister Mishell—rings the bell

Frai Moldi—a debauched monk

Frai Lorenzi—the head archivist of Santi Prudia Monastery Pater Livian—the abbot of Santi Prudia

Father Erique—bad apple in a small barrel Angelica—a wonderful cook





In Segosh


     Mother Gaida—a diminutive embroiderer

Josquin—her lovely son, now a writer, formerly a herald Rebecca—his former girlfriend, still a midwife, gone back to the islands Master Pashfloria—preeminent natural philosopher of the Ninysh Academy Master Emmanuele—somewhat less eminent, anxious to make his name Dr. Belestros—a dragon physician, no bedside manner St. Blanche—the mechanic, also good with plumbing